


Buried Alive

by FandomLife54



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Basically Alien Invasion Toppled a Building Over Their Heads, Bucky Joins Avengers, Buried Alive, Fluff and Angst, Hurt Bucky Barnes, Hurt Steve Rogers, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, M/M, Major Characters Injury, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Tag Says It, The Author Regrets Nothing, They Need To Get Out, Title Says It, cursing, honestly don't know what to tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-27
Updated: 2016-07-27
Packaged: 2018-07-27 00:53:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7596988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FandomLife54/pseuds/FandomLife54
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“-cky. Bucky!” a voice called and Bucky flinched, his awareness coming back to him. </p>
<p>“Nn,” Bucky worked to unclench his locked jaw. “I’m fine, I’m fine.” he spit between his teeth, automatic, recognizing the worried tone. Letting his eyes slip shut again, he pressed his forehead up against Steve’s chest. In and out he breathed, smelling the thick dust and concrete encasing them, and he focused on the pillaring arms bracketing past either side of his head. </p>
<p>“Do you remember what happened?”</p>
<p>“Umm,” he mumbled, scrunching his brows together as he thought through the ache in his muscles. He hissed out a groan. “Fucking aliens.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Buried Alive

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, anyone reading this. I was confident on this fic until it came time to tag it. Now I'm not too sure. Regardless, I do hope you enjoy it because I do love this ship. I really think they would both get themselves injured yet neither would tell the other, trying to play it off as if nothing was wrong. They're just that adorable. Anyways, again, hope you enjoy! Thanks for reading!

It wasn’t so much as ringing as it was a long, high pitched alarm drowning out thunder and cracking roars. The sound pounded in his ears, eagerly accompanied with the steady throb of his heartbeat pulsing in the base of his skull. Bucky unstitch his eyelids to see darkness, freezing and echoic and haunting. His heart seized as the stone enveloping him drained the heat from his skin. _He was in cryo again_. He lurched upward, hitting a solid wall of fabric and warmth, and clung to it, fingers grappling the form and holding close as gravity tried to tug him back down to the cold.

 

“-cky. Bucky!” a voice called and Bucky flinched, his awareness coming back to him. 

 

“Nn,” Bucky worked to unclench his locked jaw. “I’m fine, I’m fine.” he spit between his teeth, automatic, recognizing the worried tone. Letting his eyes slip shut again, he pressed his forehead up against Steve’s chest. In and out he breathed, smelling the thick dust and concrete encasing them, and he focused on the pillaring arms bracketing past either side of his head. 

 

“Do you remember what happened?”

 

“Umm,” he mumbled, scrunching his brows together as he thought through the ache in his muscles. He hissed out a groan. “Fucking aliens.” Steve breathed a chuckle that cut off a bit too roughly but Bucky didn’t think much considering their situation. 

 

_ There was gunfire and plasma grenades booming from all directions but with Steve safe in the sight of his scope, Bucky felt in control. And they were safe, of course, until they weren’t. An explosion rocked the tower beneath Bucky, jostling the man from his focus and sending him sliding as the structure tipped. Working fast, he gathered his sniper and his duffle bag, rushing through the rooftop door and leaping down the pit of the stairwell a floor at a time. Steve was calling his name over the comm asking for his location as Bucky gripped from railing to railing, catching the steps and descending quick.  _

 

_ “Heading down the east stairwell, fifth floo-”  _

 

_ The blast force threw him back into the adjacent staircase, his head cracking against the steel bars and the bright flames blinding him as everything crumbled. Disoriented and left with nothing to grab, he fell.  _

 

“Well I know how I got here. What the hell is your excuse?” Bucky glared through the dim light that barely illuminated Steve’s face, little more than the highlights of it’s shape coming across. He could still make out that little smile Steve gives when he knows he’s been caught doing something stupid. 

 

“Oh, you know, we haven’t gotten much alone time lately even with your debriefings finally over. What with aliens, terrorists, missions, and all keeping us occupied, I thought it’d be nice for it to be just the two of us.” Steve mused sarcastically, but for some reason that grin couldn’t stop pulling down into a line. Whether that was because of the building collapsed over their heads or the lecture Steve knew was coming for being reckless, Bucky couldn’t tell. It was certainly distracting as he assessed their enclosure. 

 

As he figured, there was an obvious lack of space between them. Lined up chest to chest, Steve towered on his hands and knees while Bucky laid stretched out beneath him, maybe a foot of space between them if Bucky leaned back all the way. Steve's arms held himself and the wreckage above them, small crumbs of debris trickling down over his shoulders when a tremor ran through his spine. Bucky cursed, shifting his attention to himself. His arms were free to roam what little space there was but when he tried to shift his legs, the numbing effect splintered and he bit his lip holding back a cry. His left leg had endured the pressure of the masses of concrete piled on it, breaking free with a kick, but his right leg didn't. Pinned in all the wrong ways, he was certain the bones were shattered and could sense the unnatural bend of the limb. Just the turn of his hips shot bolts of pain through his already prickling nerves but the leg wouldn’t budge. He was trapped, no way around it. 

 

“What’s wrong?” Steve cut in and Bucky huffed. 

 

“Nothing. Let’s get out of here.” His fingers fidgeted with him comm, growing rapid and irate at the lack of transmission. “Useless piece of-”

 

“Mine’s down, too. Looks like we need to find another way out of here.”

 

They turned their heads up in search of the source of light. There was a narrow tunnel that curved, the glow of the outside world bouncing off its walls to them. It wasn’t the widest nor did it look like it would hold up for long but it was all they had. Bucky’s heart constricted as he silently jerked his leg again, letting his eyes slip shut when nothing happened. 

 

“Alright. Come on Stevie, get moving. Women and children first.” Bucky teased, ignoring the churn of his gut. Steve didn’t move. “Hey,” Bucky waited a beat, eyes flicking back to Steve now. “Didn’t you hear me? I said-” 

 

“You go first, Buck.” Steve insisted through controlled breaths. Too practiced not to tip Bucky off. 

 

“You getting cold feet or something? You’re not still scared of small spaces are you? I mean compared to where we are now-” 

 

“ _ No _ , I’m not. Just- Look, I’m the only thing stopping this building from crushing the both of us. You go and I’ll be right behind you.” Steve wasn’t saying everything. No, something was wrong. 

 

“What aren’t you telling me, Rogers?” Bucky pressed, eyeing the sheen of sweat glimmering on Steve’s face, the white light making him look pale and sick. “I ain’t moving until you answer me.” 

 

“There’s nothing wrong. I just need you to-”

 

“ _To_ _hell_ there isn’t. You have any idea what a pisspoor liar you are? Spit it out.”

 

“Bucky, listen to me-” Steve tried but Bucky was hearing none of it.

 

“Not until you answer me first!”

 

“ _ Bucky- _ ”

 

“ _ Steve _ .”

 

“ **_Bucky, go!_ ** ” Steve roared, his voice choking off in the end and now he was panting hard, exhaling rough puffs of air through dry gasps. 

 

“Woah, woah!” Bucky reached out for him, clasping Steve’s cold, damp cheek in his flesh hand as the metal one shot up to the ceiling - floor, staircase,  _ whatever _ \- as the structure shook on Steve’s trembling shoulders. Bucky opened his mouth as soon as the shaking stopped, ready to get answers, when he heard a few gentle taps, something wet hitting the fabric of his uniform. His fingers skimming across the surface until they smeared into something warm. A puddle on the belly of his suit he couldn’t feel before. He brought his hand up to the dim streak of light, the crimson shining on his skin. The rustic smells of blood; Bucky thought they were coming from his leg but Steve-

 

Bucky’s hand shot up, frantically searching the blond’s torso when his fingers dinged against exactly what he imagined. Rebar. Straight through Steve’s chest. His hand drifted further, sliding through the thin space between Steve’s back and the collapsed building where he could trace more bars gorging into his skin. The crooked, metal stakes pierced into Steve like needles to a pincushion. One, as knew, skewered the left lung completely through. Another, his lower back. That one maybe just missed his kidney and wasn’t as deep. Still, those, plus another two that broke the surface over his shoulder blade and ribs. 

 

“Fuck…” Bucky’s voice wavered, dying before he could say more. 

 

“Go, Buck” Steve pleaded softly, jaw slacking and eyes drooping shut. 

 

“ _ No _ . Fuck you, Rogers. Shut your mouth and let me think.” Bucky growled, his hands and body shaking. The mantra of curses came easy to him as his mind scrambled but he didn’t hear any complaints from Steve for once. That was worse. “Ok.” he shoved off any thoughts all together, tired of feeling helpless to their chaos. He could focus with instinct. 

 

Sucking in a breath, he let his mind blank, his limbs moving automatically. His hand reached up and behind Steve, judging each rebar probing his skin. Like he gathered before, the one in his chest was the one to deal with. He couldn’t remove it and send Steve off, the man would collapse and die before he reached the exit. But he could cut it. Searching down into the rubble for some passage into his pocket, he dug out one of his many knives. There was something about the way Steve, who managed to prop his eyes open again, didn’t flinch as he brought the blade so close to his vitals that made Bucky believe himself to actually be a good person once. Steve seemed to think so. Still did. 

 

Bucky tapped the sharpened edge to the bar, bracing himself, and began to saw. It wasn’t the quickest process at the difficult angle and Bucky made sure to keep his eyes on Steve the whole time. The longer he took the duller Steve’s bright irises became, darkening into shallow pools of blue. His mind had slipped away, Bucky could tell. That was alright. Steve’s heart rate was slow and steady meaning wherever his brain sent him, be it to nothing or an illusion, Steve was safe there. 

 

As the blade worked through the rebar, Bucky arranged himself accordingly. He readjusted his metal arm and columned the knee of his free leg against the ceiling. It was awkward balancing out the one side of his body but with his right limbs either trapped or otherwise preoccupied, there wasn’t really a choice. With that thought, the bar snapped and Steve dropped, the three remaining bars ripping out of him as he fell. Bucky’s hand quickly hoisted Steve in, pulling the man to pillow his chest, and then darted to the groaning structure. 

 

The building creaked and moaned, tossing rock and rubble down as it strived to collapse completely. In a horrid moment of doubt, Bucky questioned if he could stop the place from caving in. He grit his teeth in his outcry as the force bent his elbows. Throat closing, Bucky forced himself to breath, unwilling to let the pressure overpower him. With a brutal surge of strength tearing something awful in his muscles, the structure steadied. 

 

Bucky’s head lolled back as he heaved out a breath, arms still wobbling. Ahead the opening stood shining. The sight brought a gruff chuckle to his lips and he turned his head down to the lob of red, white, blue and blond on his chest. The light touched Steve at a different angle now. It exposed the dark bags forming under his eyes, distinct against his flushed, clammy skin. He looked so much like the small, skinny kid he knew back in Brooklyn, fevered and soar under a pile of blankets as Bucky watched over him. 

 

A sudden add of pressure on him as another boom sounded from above snapped him from his trance. He sighed, remembering what he had to do.

 

“Steve,” Bucky jutted his chin to Steve’s head. “Stevie. Wake up, punk, I’m talking to you.” 

 

Bucky couldn’t help the small tug of his lips when those long lashes fluttered up to let those eyes shine through. Steve let out a small cry, his movements jerky as he pushed himself up to face Bucky. His eyelids were sticky and blinking slow. “Bucky?” he whispered, the puzzling look on his expression falling while he took in their weird arrangement. “Oh god.” his face turned white. “Bucky, no, I- I told you to get out of here.” 

 

“And I told you to shut up.” Bucky bit back though the harshness seemed absent, hollowed out as he focused on keeping his arms up. “I’m not fighting with you about this right now. See that light up there? I need you crawl to it and keep crawling till you see the sun, understand me? Don’t stop for nothing.”

 

“I’m not leaving you behind. There’s gotta be another way.” Steve held back a wince, eyes clenching shut. 

 

“You’re not leaving me anywhere. I’ll be right behind you, but we can’t make it out if I let go and you’re still flopping around trying to make it out the damn tunnel. So, go.”

 

“But Bucky-” Another explosion set off and streams of cement crumbs fell around them. Bucky cried out, his muscles straining and his metal arm whirring as he struggled to keep the wreckage up.

 

“Fucking now, Steve! This building is heavy!” And Steve lunged off, choking back whines as he pulled at his injuries. 

 

Steve crawled and crawled, dragging himself forward through blurry vision and a pounding in his ears. Elbows digging into the ground, left and right, he towed his body further until he felt the warm sunlight hit his face and the bright light seemed to consume everything. He could breath, air rushing into his lungs, and he vaguely heard his own scream as the breath tore at the metal bar through his chest. Something shadowed over him and suddenly he was being hauled away. That’s when he remembered Bucky. Whether he actually fought the prodding hands away or they simply let him go in his sudden thrash, he didn’t care. He was stumbling over his own feet, breaking into a run just for a moment before he felt a rush of pain swarm his head and the cold floor against his cheek. He was calling Bucky’s name when the hands grabbed him again. He needed them to listen, to understand. There was shouting and distant sirens and the sunlight only made him feel nauseated now. He couldn’t take it, and that’s when everything went black. 

 

\---------

 

Things were quiet down under. No explosions, the battle must have been over. No sirens, they made sure this part of the city was evacuated. No people, he was alone. 

 

He couldn’t hear Steve dawdling around in the tunnel so he must have got out. Bucky blew out a steady stream of air, letting the relief wash over him for a minute. He laid there breathing in the quiet. 

 

He used to love silence, he thought. On the run, he avoided crowds when he could. Too many voices, too many conversations he couldn’t monitor. They were all talking about him; they knew who he was, what he did. They were going to kill him. Everyone could see his sins branded onto his skin and they were disgusted,  _ revolted _ . They needed to put him down. There were days, weeks,  _ months  _ he thought they should, that he deserved it. But he could never let them. It could have been the training Hydra dumped into his head that told him to stay alive at any person’s expense or simple survival instincts, but in the end he would run. He couldn’t stop running. Every safe house was compromised. Every side glance was an scouter identifying him. Every whisper was his coordinates being given away or an operative signalling agents to move in. They were closing in on him. Snipers watching him from a dozen angle, SWAT cars hidden around every corner, helicopters spotting him aerial view overhead. They were all after him, so he had to run. He got used to the silence, adjusted to it. It wasn’t until Steve found him that he realized he never actually prefered it. 

 

Steve swooped in, bright smiles and warm touches, promising protection and zero blame. Everything he didn’t deserve but Steve gave anyways. What Steve refused to accuse, the rest of the world accepted with a hundred and ten percent certainty: Bucky was a monster. They returned to Stark Tower and that’s when they took him. Steve whispered that he would be ok and shoved away the guards grabbing at them, barking Bucky wasn’t some rabid animal. Sensing the guards aiming to detain Steve along with him, Bucky placed a quieting hand on Steve’s shoulder - the first time Bucky touched Steve back - and Steve swung his head to him immediately, freezing on the spot. “Stand down, soldier,” Bucky spoke softly, the already weary humor dying halfway through the attempt of a joke. Bucky left with the agents willingly, letting them search and chain him, lugging him away from Steve’s anxious blue eyes. 

 

He didn’t see Steve for two months. 

 

“One bullshit excuse after another.” Steve had growled as he stormed into Bucky’s cell for the first time. He didn’t bother asking permission before wrapping Bucky in his arms and sinking his face into the crook of his neck. The way all the blond’s muscles physically relaxed once they were in direct contact kind of amazed Bucky. He had forgotten what it was to be a comfort to someone, he didn’t even know he still could be. He’d forgotten scorching skin and soft blond locks tickling his nose; the strong heartbeat drumming from Steve’s chest onto his own; how it felt to be comforted back. But when he finally coiled his arms around Steve and Steve squeezed him tight, he remembered. 

 

And he still remembered. They had been on quite a few missions together since then, the Avengers taking to him faster than he could have imagined. He was a useful addition to the group, a willing team player and determined in his work. Vast varieties of skills made developing a fair share of epic combos with individual members easy. Of course, he usually stayed with Steve. No one argued. That, however, was how he got into the mess he was in now. 

 

The tremors vibrating through his exhausted arms and legs numbed him. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could do this. Twisting, turning, jerking, sliding, bending, rearranging; nothing worked to free his limb. He didn’t have a ton of leeway while simultaneously keeping a building from crushing him. He considered cutting his leg off but he knew he couldn’t manage the strength to withstand the pain of a severed limb, the faintness of blood loss, and the time limit of a crumbling building. Things were looking bleak. He didn’t account for the fatigue to set in so quick, let alone how debilitating it would be. 

 

He was going to die. His heart clenched at the thought but he knew it was true. And he hated it. Why couldn’t he be like before when he didn’t give a damn if he died? All he knew was the mission. Pain, suffering, heartbreak: those meant nothing to him. The only thing that mattered was completing his orders and returning for mission report, nothing else. The fear couldn’t get to him, only the frustration and rage that came with someone interfering with his goal. 

 

Now- now he cared. He cared so much it hurt. He didn’t want Steve to go through saying goodbye to him again. Hell, Bucky didn’t wanna leave him. They just found each other and here things were, fucked up beyond repair and shoved in their faces. This was his life. This was how it would end. He would never see Steve again and his last words to him were lies to trick him into saving himself. Bucky supposed he was grateful he wouldn’t live to hear the earful he would get when Steve figured that out.

 

His head tapped the rock behind him as he cursed himself. What might have been the worst part of the whole situation was Bucky never said  _ it _ . The thing Steve would say in everything he did. In unrequited whispers and blunt statements aloud, like it was fact. The thing Bucky would say in return in every way short of verbally. He couldn’t say it. He hadn’t earned that right yet. But, fuck, if he was going to die here-

 

A choked gasp broke from Bucky’s throat as the building beared down on him further, gravity taking advantage of his weakening grip. The wreckage hovered just above his chest, half a breath leaving his lungs to flatten against a slab of concrete. His nose scraped into the stone so he faced away, turning to the narrow tunnel once more. The faint whimper didn’t register as his own as the rocks kept tumbling and the exit sealed shut, taking the light with it. 

 

Pitch black. That’s all that was left, pitch black darkness. It was only a matter of time before the wreckage finished the job.

 

“Steve,” he rasped out, air thin and his pants bouncing off the close walls. “Stevie, I… Fuck- ok, I don’t think this stupid comm is suddenly working but if it is… Steve if you can here me, I lo-”

 

He felt his arms crash to his sides, the sudden movement of his stiff muscles sending a pulse of agony to his spine. A white light surrounded him. Two thoughts occurred to him in that moment: One, his arms gave out and he’s dead meaning this holy luminescence was the bright light everyone hears about from old people and books; Two, it couldn’t possibly be heaven’s light simply because those pearly gate would never let him in after everything he’s done. 

 

A monstrous roar shook the earth. With the wreckage removed, the pressure released and air swept deep back into Bucky’s lungs. He cringed beneath the sunlight and waited for his eyes to adjust before peeking up at the green giant above him.

 

“...Banner.” Bucky greeted nonchalantly because what the hell was he supposed to say? Wait. “Uh, thanks.” That worked. 

 

The Hulk huffed a smirk, carefully picking at the rubbage now in an attempt to free his leg. The sudden cry of pain had them both freeze, but Bucky set his jaw and nodded Banner on, enormous concrete slabs lifting up and away. In a desperate attempt to get oxygen back into the limb, blood rushed through his leg and he swears he could feel every individual vein and artery swell. It was miserable to endure them balloon against bruised muscle and broken bone, pinching and squeezing oversensitive nerves. It was as if his entire leg was aflame and the torment was spreading up his torso. Bruce puffed air through his nose to communicate whoever he was speaking to. Bucky couldn’t risk moving to bother checking who. 

 

“Hey there, stranger. Rogers was asking for you.” a sweet voice rang out. 

 

He felt a sting prick his injured limb and then a blissful nothing as the anesthetic did it’s job. He groaned in delight, finally peering up to his third savior that day. “Thank you.”

 

“Anytime.” Natasha smiled, her sout-stained curls bobbing as her head swung to glace somewhere off in the distance. “Just sit tight, we got medic on the way and-”

 

“Where’s Steve?” Bucky slurred, the anesthetic working swell.

 

“ _ And _ we’ll get you back to Stark Tower with Steve in no time. Your bed will be right next to his.” she finished, a knowing grin tugging her lips. 

 

“ ‘S he ok?” Bucky’s eyes drooped. 

 

Natasha pet his hair, his vision of her tunneling around the ends. “Yes. All thanks to you.”

 

\--------

 

The world sounded muted as if the voices spoke behind a glass wall, clearing as the seconds passed. 

 

“-enough to tranquilize an elephant!”

 

“You’re overexaggerating. He’s fine, see?”

 

“Bucky?” one of them - Steve - called, the shuffling of fabric and plastic tubes rattling in the quiet. He heard the other person - it sounded like Natasha - excuse herself, boots clicking away as she took her leave. There was a dip in the mattress to his left and he immediately regretted twisting his neck to face them. Bucky humphed, head still dizzy as it tried to distinguish up from down. “Easy. You’re ok now, you’re at Stark Tower. Do you remember what happened?” 

 

Enough with that damn question. “Shut up, Steve.” Bucky grumbled. It took him a second longer than he would have liked to realize the shift in the mattress again and his hand shot out. “I didn’t say  _ leave _ .” he pouted. He blamed the opioids. 

 

Steve chuckled, climbing on to the man’s bed with a doting “Scooch.” And Bucky did, feeling around for empty space instead of struggling to see the fuzzy world behind his eyelids. It was ridiculous to fit two fully grown men onto one bed, especially with the absurdly large cast around Bucky’s right leg, but Steve curled in close, head tucking into the crook of Bucky’s neck as he draped an arm around the brunet’s torso. 

 

“How’s your leg?” Steve questioned as Bucky finally managed to focus his vision. 

 

“Is there an honest way to answer that if I can’t feel it?” he smiled. Steve dug his nose behind Bucky’s ear for a moment before sitting up on his arm to face him. 

 

“That’s probably for the best. You got a few other injuries too: concussion, fractured ribs, the rocks tore up both our backs pretty bad but that’s mostly healed by now.” The edge of Steve’s lips tugged down and his eyes refused to meet his friends. 

 

“And you?” Bucky dared.

 

The blond cleared his throat, eyebrows creasing together. “Grazed kidney, partially collapsed lung, lot of internal bleeding, fractured shoulder blade-” He startled when Bucky suddenly slapped his hand.

 

“Quit picking at your bandages.” Bucky scolded, then a rapid bashfulness flushed his cheeks as he realized what he did.

 

Bucky hadn't done that since... since they were kids. Back before the war, before the serum, before he almost killed Steve. Steve, who he just struck even if it was a small and harmless attack. He didn't mean to, something about it was just instinctual. And now he probably compromised his entire mental stature because there are _plenty_ of instinctual reactions HYDRA drilled into his head too. He had just finished all his debriefings. Now, he'll be shoved off into some cell for careful monitoring. Visitation would be prohibited indefinitely. He would never see Steve again.

 

While Bucky warred with himself in his head, Steve stared, blinking, before glancing down to see his own fingers _were_ subconsciously pulling at the strips of gauze over his chest. He remembered back in Brooklyn after every beating and bruising and scraping he took, Bucky would always haul him back to his Ma's house and fix him up. Bucky would smack Steve's scratching fingers and Steve would pout that _he wouldn't scratch if it weren't itchy_. Nowadays, Steve couldn't feel the itch of healing wounds or irritating bandages. Not since the serum. He healed too fast. He just started scratching, as if he wanted Bucky to shoo his hands away. Because Bucky could. Because Bucky was with him, alive, to smack Steve's hands like he always had. Like nothing changed.

 

Steve looked up, eyes shining as the thoughts washed over him. A kiddish laugh bubbled out of his lips and he enveloped Bucky in an instant. “I love you.” he smiled, burying his face in the brunet's hair. 

 

Bucky’s heart skipped in his chest, the blush spreading down his neck and warming those stupid butterflies in his stomach. Thoughts of damnation forgotten, he remembered what he almost said down underneath the wreckage.

 

“I love you, too.” The words came out a bit as a croak but they were finally out to hang in the air above them. He felt his heart rate triple when Steve pulled back to gaze at him with those cobalt irises, holding Bucky’s cheek in his palm with their noses inches apart. 

 

“Buck,” Steve whispered tenderly, leaning closer yet never breaking eye contact. “You’re gonna alarm the doctors if you don’t calm down.” Steve held back a smile as the heart monitor beeped wildly behind them. Somehow Bucky hadn’t heard it until Steve pointed it out. Bucky growled, glaring at the thing like it personally offended him. Holding his breath and letting the air out slow, the beeping decelerating dramatically in seconds. Steve’s eyebrows rose, an impressed purse to his lips. 

 

“Shut up.” Bucky puffed and Steve turned to him, smirking. 

 

“I didn’t say anything.” 

 

“And you’re still too damn loud. Just lay down, I’m too tired to talk.”

 

“You’ve been sleeping all-” Bucky shut him up with a kiss, only pulling back when he was sure Steve’s mind was floaty and dazed. “Yeah, ok.” Steve flashed his crooked grin and bent forward to seal their lips again. He tucked his head on Bucky’s chest, snuggling close, and sighed in content. “You know I’m not letting you off the hook for tricking me, right?” Bucky didn’t comment on the way the cheerfulness in Steve’s voice dropped or how the blond's arms held him just a bit tighter as he spoke. He groaned.

 

“Shhhh, sleep time.” Steve didn’t say anything more and, of course, that made Bucky worry. He opened his eyes, somehow no longer tired, and sighed. “You tried to trick me first.”

 

“I know.” the blond admitted, guilty. “I’m sorry.”

 

“You know I love you, punk. Don’t go trying to leave me in this future all by myself.”

 

Steve twisted his head to peek at him beneath his lashes, chin perched on Bucky’s chest. “You’re not by yourself, Buck. You got Natasha, Bruce, Clint, Tony-”

 

“You know what I mean.” Bucky wiggled his hand over, intertwining his fingers with Steve’s and their hands resting at his side. 

 

“I do.” Steve said, his eyes flickering down. “I won’t. Not if I can help it.” They laid in the silence, breathing easy with their words off their chest. Just before Bucky finally drifted asleep, Steve whispered, “And I love you, too, jerk.” 


End file.
